


"I bet my dad can beat your dad!"

by BID



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friendly Sparring, M/M, Unresolved Tension, bamf corvo, karate teacher daud
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BID/pseuds/BID
Summary: This is a prequel tothegrumblingirl'sficlethere. Can be read stand alone. Not beta read.Daud is a karate teacher, Emily is his student and Corvo the hot single dad who can't justnottake this challenge.





	"I bet my dad can beat your dad!"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegrumblingirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [words rendered into kisses, sighs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13582677) by [thegrumblingirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrumblingirl/pseuds/thegrumblingirl). 



"I bet my dad can beat your dad!" , Corvo hears Emily boast.

Her new friend (or maybe enemy, it's sometimes hard to tell with her) Thomas gasps and immediately shoots back an uncharacteristically loud, "Cannot!" 

"Can too!"

"My dad knows _all_ karate, and yours doesn't!"

" _My_ dad doesn't even _need_ to know karate! He'll beat him anyway!"

 

"And here you'd think they'd tire themselves out after two hours of training," Daud mutters, accepting the stack of notes Corvo hands him, payment for the next eight lessons, only throwing the amount a glance before he puts them in his bag.

"She doesn't know what 'tired' even is," Corvo replies with a sigh and puts his wallet away, "the test on Saturday still stands? Emily's been ecstatic about getting her orange belt, it's all she talks about."

Daud nods, "They shouldn't change the date this time, that would be too last minute even for-"

"Corvo!" Emily yells as she runs up to him, Thomas hot at her heels, "Corvo you need to fight Daud. Thomas doesn't believe me that you're stronger!" 

"I'm not going to fight your teacher, Emily," Corvo replies patiently for the nth time, though usually, this discussion was at home, "besides, you didn't clean the rat's cage yesterday cause you went to Alexi's birthday, remember? It needs to be done today and it's getting late."

"But it's holidays, so I don't have school tomorrow, so I can stay up a little longer and you have time to fight Daud!"

" _You_ would fight him, right dad?" Thomas chimes in, back to his too calm demeanour for a ten-year-old but his eyes are intent and staring at Daud. 

"Sure," Daud replies to Emily's delight, turning to Corvo and giving him a wink, _a **wink**_ , Corvo now almost has to fight him on princi- "Come on, I'll go easy on you." 

' _Oh,_ ' Corvo thinks, seeing Emily's excited smile turning into a mischievous grin from the corner of his eye, ' _it is on._ '

"Okay," Corvo replies casually, as he starts to unbutton his winter coat, "that just means I'll have to give it my all, yes?" 

 

Patient, tired, ~~handsome~~ Corvo never struck Daud as someone who won't back down from a challenge, though Daud wouldn't dream of complaining as he watches Corvo strip out of his terribly expensive looking winter- and waist-coat, leaving him in an, undoubtedly tailored, slim cut, black dress shirt and black jeans. The leather shoes went too, as did the socks, and Daud can tell that he is openly staring at Corvo's back (and backside) when the man saunters towards the centre of the mats, but it's not like he could make himself stop. 

He's never been uncomfortable in his Gi, but approaching Corvo's tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-hipped black silhouette he can't help but feel a twinge of self-consciousness. ' _Well_ ' he thinks, ' _atleast until I'll get him onto the mats. Who thinks fighting in a dress shirt is a good idea anyway?_ ' 

Standing opposite Corvo, he watches him roll up his second sleeve and only then does Daud realise that Corvo isn't just an average sized man with fortunate proportions, no, Corvo is muscular, at least his forearms are undoubtedly trained and Daud has a hard time not imagining how the rest of Corvo looks underneath. 

Well, being fit hardly means he can fight. 

"Not gonna warm up?"

"I'm good," Corvo replies to Daud's surprise. If he doesn't even know the importance of warming up, well...

"Alright then, let's start." 

To Daud's chagrin Corvo doesn't move at all, he simply stands there, relaxed and looking attentive, but as soon as Daud, who knows he is faster than people expect of someone his statue, steps towards Corvo and tries to grab him there is an explosion of movement between the two of them.

In a fight, a proper one, Daud knows he is practised enough not to get surprised and having to rely on intuition, but Corvo's speed and agility take him completely unawares. A flurry of twists, grips and blocks later, barely seconds since they started, Corvo has his arm around Daud's neck and one of Daud's arms twisted between them. Corvo's body is hot and terrifyingly unmoving behind him and Daud can feel him putting actual, real pressure on his neck as soon as Daud tries to dig the thumb of his free hand into the femoral nerve high on Corvo's thigh. 

It only takes him moments to understand that this is a real, practised Tyvian Chokehold that will have him out cold very, very soon if he doesn't break it, his peripheral vision is shrinking and Corvo, impossibly, tightens it some more until Daud's pulse is rushing in his ears. He doesn't even have enough leeway to hiss out a curse.

The sound of Daud slapping his hand twice against Corvo's thigh is immediately joined by Emily's loud, triumphant, " **I _told_ you so!** "

"You alright?" Corvo asks as he releases his hold on Daud but keeps his hands on Daud's shoulders, supporting his weight where Daud is leaning against him. 

"Yeah," he croaks out and clears his throat as he steps away, not facing Corvo just yet and instead looks over to Thomas, who stares at Corvo with an expression of awe and wonder, maybe the boy will finally direct his hero-worship away from Daud. Towards the exit though, Daud sees Ms Timsh standing frozen in the doorway with her wallet half out of her handbag, the triplets, Waverly, Esma and Lydia, still in their Gis, are behind her and already furiously discussing what they undoubtedly just saw. 

"Daud," she states, straightening up and approaching him, her stilettos the last thing he would want on his mats, hopefully, she won't puncture them, "your pay." 

Daud accepts the money and glares at her back as she leaves without so much as a goodbye. 

"Sorry," he suddenly hears behind him, "I thought everyone was gone, or I wouldn't have done... that."

Corvo is looking down at him, brows drawn together in worry and some strands of hair had come loose from the tie framing his face, there is a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead but aside from that, and the shirt not being perfectly tucked anymore, Corvo looks unfairly perfect, as if the fight hadn't happened at all. 

"Don't worry about it, " Daud replies automatically, "no loss if she doesn't come back, the triplets are _hell_." 

"It was a good fight though," Corvo comments idly as he re-ties his hair, still less than an arm's length away from Daud, "if you hadn't underestimated me it would have been hard." 

He winks. 

Dumbstruck Daud watches him turn away and join the kids, quickly redressing and not paying Emily and Thomas' heated discussion much mind until he calls her away and leaves with only a short, "See you next week!" 

Still standing there, near the centre of the mats, he has to wonder if Covo might agree to a rematch, and also if the sensation of Corvo's body heat all along Daud's back would have left his memory by then. Daud is aware that he had so far enjoyed looking at Corvo, also talking to him, be it business or more casual things like their shared homeland, Serkonos, and he knows he'd started developing some sort of _infatuation_ with the man, but knowing that, no, _how_ Corvo fights, ruthless, efficient, with no regard for rules and far more strength than his 'rich office ponce' looks belie is...

... it's something. Something that has Daud's pulse still hammering in his ears, goosebumps on the back of his neck and, well, loosing has never had quite _that_ kind of an effect on him. Not even close.


End file.
